A Dutiful Husband
by GreenWood Elf
Summary: AU oneshot. He lived for duty and respected it, but he certainly did not love it.


**Author's Note: **This short one-shot came to me last night when I could not sleep for some reason. I scribbled it down this morning and thought I'd post it for the heck of it. It is another one of my AU "what if?" scenarios, so don't expect a canon-abiding story here. This fic also has nothing to do with my other Faramir fics. I do not have a beta, so all mistakes are my own. Read, review, criticize. Any and all feedback is highly appreciated. Enjoy!

**Disclaimer: **I claim no ownership of Tolkien's masterpiece.

**A Dutiful Husband**

"It is just the damp of the first spring rain," Faramir said. He found his place by Eowyn's side and gazed out over the parapet. Strange, he thought, how comforting this woman's presence was.

Soft she seemed, like virgin snow. The Lady of Rohan turned to smile at him, with the sun on her hair and in her eyes.

Their hands clasped…only for a moment.

"Faramir?"

He jumped and Eowyn pulled away. The sun slid behind a darkening cloud. The wind muttered some cruel curse.

"Faramir?"

He could not avoid her summons. Faramir could tell by the rising pitch of her voice that she would not long endure his ignorance. He turned from Eowyn and faced his wife.

"My lady." A stiff bow he gave her. She accepted it with good grace, the folds of her blue mantle dripping over her arms.

"I take my leave," Eowyn said at once. The dull patter of her feet upon the grass heralded her departure and with it, Faramir felt his heart sink a little lower.

He was alone with his wife, as it should be for the rest of his days.

"Has the Warden of the House given you leave to quit your bed?" His wife did not come to stand by his side, but clung to the stone basin of the fountain. She looked awkward, uncomfortable as always.

"Enough to walk in the gardens," Faramir replied. He did not go to join her, to clasp her hand in greeting and smile. After many years of marriage they had both learned to keep a steady distance between them.

Their union had been arranged, of course. Both parties were mutually willing and their parents even more so. She had come from Dol Amroth and Faramir had even hoped she would resemble his mother.

But a decade of wedded life had taught them many things. She bore him no children and Faramir at last submitted himself to the dutiful existence of a husband. He lived for duty and respected it, but he certainly did not love it.

Eowyn had proven to be something different, a power beyond duty. She was love.

He had never experienced such a feeling before and now that he knew it, Faramir realized he had never shared such a love with his wife.

"Have you eaten?" She twisted her fingers together. "You look pale again. Have you eaten?"

"No, not today," Faramir said. The forced smile he wore made his jaw ache. Why did his wife always speak on such frivolous matters?

Have you brought your boots in from the drafty hall? The leather will rot with rainwater if you do not.

Have you seen Damrod? His wife borrowed two of our finest goblets. Does she intend to return them?

Have you eaten? Both your beloved brother and father have perished and the shadow of the East draws ever near. But have you eaten?

Faramir noticed that his hands were clenched into fists. The air suddenly felt warm about him, warm and heavy and suffocating.

"Perhaps we should go inside," she said and raised her empty eyes to him. Faramir could only comply.

Snaking his arm through hers, he brought her in from the garden and into the long halls. She kept stride with him, having long become accustomed to the habit of appearing pleased with her life.

"I will speak with the Warden," she said. "You must eat, if only a little. Yes, I will speak to the Warden."

Faramir listened to her. She babbled on for a long time. He kept his eyes before him. And in the faint shadows he saw a glimmer of hope. Eowyn walked across the hall.

His wife halted and something akin to curiosity crept into her gaze.

"Who is that fair lady? Is she not the woman who stood with you in garden?"

For one agonizing moment, Faramir tore his gaze from Eowyn's passing form.

"I do not know. She is but a shadow to me."

His wife seemed satisfied with his hazy response. Picking up her shallow train of thought, she continued on with her chatter. Faramir glanced back down the hall only to find Eowyn gone.

His heart sank a little lower.

"Faramir? Faramir, do you not hear me?"

Painful reality swept him away once more. Faramir turned his gaze back to his wife.

"You were saying, dearest?"

* * *

**Author's Note: **So how was it for an insomnia-induced one-shot? Hopefully not too horribly written. Thanks for reading! 


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